


Past Your Bedtime

by InsertQuirkyUsername



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, pretty much just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertQuirkyUsername/pseuds/InsertQuirkyUsername
Summary: Percival Graves didn't see why they should have to be there, he would have preferred to be anywhere but the grandiose ballroom. Besides, it is past Graves' bedtime and he's getting cranky.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I make no apologies for this, it's pretty much pure fluff and I love it. I hope you do to.

The elegant ballroom Percival currently found himself in was full of people who he otherwise would never have been in the company of. All dressed in tuxedos or evening gowns, he glanced across the ballroom to the area that had been set up for the reading that was to take place later tonight. He really would have rather been at home in front of the fire with a report or even in his office listening to one of the junior Aurors stumble over their words as they tried to make it through their first meeting with him without passing out. 

Warm fingers entwined themselves into Percival’s and he was pulled from his reverie to see Newt smiling at him. 

 

“You didn’t have to come out tonight you know.” The younger wizard said sheepishly.

 

“And leave you here with all these people? Leave you to the mercy of this evening’s host? I think not.” Graves said, returning a smile and gently squeezing Newt’s hand.

 

“He’s not that bad.” Newt blushed.

 

Percival just snorted and walked hand in hand with Newt to the nearest waiter, he could feel the call of Champagne, prohibition be damned.  Thankfully prohibition was a no-maj thing, but that didn’t mean it was easy for Wizards to get a hold of anything even remotely alcoholic.

For his part, Newt seemed content to just be there by Percival’s side.

 

“Remind me how you know the man again?” Graves asked.

 

“He was a year above me in Hogwarts. He was a Slytherin, so we didn’t really interact much but he took any opportunity he could to remind everyone how odd I was…” Newt said.

 

“He bullied you and yet here we are at his book launch, why?” Graves asked through gritted teeth. 

 

“Both books were sanctioned by the Ministry and they are published by the same company.” Newt said.

 

Finishing his Champagne, Graves sighed, “Well if we have to be here then let us at least have a semi enjoyable night. Come, I’ll teach you to dance yet.” 

 

This was an exaggeration on Graves’ part, for all Newt might have been a tangle of gangly limbs, the man had remarkable coordination when it came to dancing. 

The two made their way to the middle of the room where many couples were already dancing and began to dance with practiced ease. It was a favourite pastime of Graves’ that had surprised Newt the first time it had happened. The pair had been enjoying the warm glow of the fire and the slow pace of what Graves had put on the record player. Suddenly Graves stood and asked Newt to dance with him, serious as you like, Newt had reluctantly accepted and both had been surprised to learn of the others skill. That evening was the beginning of something special. Every time Graves had a bad day at work, that evening they would dance slowly and for hours. Any time Newt hadn’t been able to save one of his creatures, they would dance.

They spent much of the evening that way, dancing various different ways and only stopped when something came on that Graves and Newt were unfamiliar with. 

While they watched others dance from the sidelines, they chatted quietly until from nowhere the host for the evening appeared in front of them.

Elias Zegwater was an odious man. Percival tried to remain open-minded to people but this man truly looked like he belonged in Slytherin. Elias was tall and skinny with a too-pale-to-be-attractive complexion. His features reminded Percival of a hawk, sharp and predatory. He dressed in such a way that anyone could be forgiven for thinking he was actively trying to show the world how wizards dressed. Percival also found him to be a man who held himself as if he was better than those he surrounded himself with.

 In short, Percival did not like this man and would be overjoyed when he finally left American soil.

 

“Newt, long time no see.” Elias sneered. 

 

“Yes, hello Elias.” Newt replied, his head suddenly hung low and eyes fixed straight on the ground.

 

“You must be the famous Mr. Graves. A pleasure.” Elias said, extending a hand.

 

“Not really.” Percival bit out and refused to shake hands with the other man.

 

Newt looked sharply up at his partner, astounded at what the usually so polite man had just done. 

 

“Not quite the way I would expect someone of your stature in the magical community to behave around a visitor to your country.” Elias said, displeasure lacing his voice. “Still, I suppose one cannot expect English values everywhere one goes.”

 

Percival bit his tongue to stop him from saying anything that might earn him a visit from Picquery the next day and Newt was back to looking at his feet.

 

Elias turned his attention to Newt, “They suspect my book will sell very well, in fact I would go so far as to say that it will far exceed your book sales. After all, the care of Magical Beasts is hardly what the public cares to read. They are better off knowing how to exterminate them, not what to feed the pests.” He said and made to take his leave. “Oh and Newt, try and train your other beast better. His manners are unacceptable.” 

 

At that, Newt’s head shot up again, this time to fix Elias with a look much unlike anything Percival had ever seen in the younger man’s eyes.

The pair made their way around the room in circles, actively avoiding wherever Elias turned up lest Graves should hit him.

 

“Insufferable, disgusting, waste of flesh.” Graves seethed.

 

“I think it is past your bedtime and you are getting just a little bit grumpy.” Newt chuckled lightly. 

 

“Newt, please don’t do that. I’m not one of your creatures.” Graves sighed.

 

“No. You are not.” 

 

As the group all took their seats to hear the reading that had been arranged for that night, Graves was sure to take seats close to the back of the gathering.  
 Half way through the reading, while the Slytherin had continued to make jokes at Newt’s expense, Graves took his partner's hand and leaned in to press a kiss to his temple.

 

“We can leave, you know.” Graves whispered.

 

“We can’t, I have to be here as a-”

 

“Another author of the company.” Graves finished the other man’s line of thought.

 

“Indeed.” 

 

Graves’ unoccupied hand drifted to his pocket, the one holding a velvet box that he had bought the day before. Briefly he considered stealing Elias’ thunder by proposing to Newt there and then but reconsidered. He didn’t want the proposal to come with the memory of this man’s horrible treatment of his intended.  
  
He would wait until they were home and it would make up for the latter part of the evening. 


End file.
